Review Summary: claws sharpened, teeth agape
The discomfort evoked by Tanya Tagaq’s music may appear to be rooted in the unfamiliarity of the average listener with Inuk throat singing and her abstract songwriting choices, but perhaps that isn’t the case at all. Rather, the undeniable clarity of the artist’s message can be said to be the main point of unease found on
Tongues. Underneath all of its unique marriages of primal viscerality with sleek modern production, the new record’s demands are incredibly clear: to be heard and seen.
These explicit appeals to acknowledgment are rooted in Tagaq’s heritage: each song centres around an aspect of the continued oppression of Canada’s indigenous population, as well as lending a voice to other marginalised groups. The heartbreaking ‘I Forgive Me’ employs an off-kilter beat and the vocalist’s intimate whispers to convey the importance of recognising one’s vulnerability and strengths in the wake of childhood trauma. Here, throaty yells are employed as the track’s dim colouring alongside unnerving synths, while Tagaq twists words to be as distinct as they are wholly crushing: “
the past has birthed the bricks that build my bones / the past divided all my cells into this muscle I flex / into this skin that I’ve stretched / the past is the house of these breaths”. Its metaphors aren’t quite metaphors, its intensities consistently amplified by Tagaq’s claustrophobically yet effectively produced vocals. Elsewhere, the immense ‘Colonizer’ achieves a similar ferocity by refusing to waste a single word. Underscored by a mesmerising hum and irregular drum patterns, its title is shredded across the track alongside proclamations of the listener’s guilt. It’s direct, leaving no room for misinterpretations through its palpable pain, but remains full of bite and piercing capabilities.
Tongues is at its very best during such immersively straightforward moments. The record’s title track adds hints of ambiguity but annihilates them at the very same time: implementing the Inuktitut phrase ‘Inuuvunga’ alongside the lyrics “
we lost our language / and we didn’t”, Tagaq focuses on her own journey of relearning and reclaiming her language. ‘Inuuvunga’ translates to ‘I am an Inuk’; a small statement capable of reversing roles that may seem set in the most brittle of stones by being explicitly clear to the oppressed and incomprehensible to the oppressor. In spite of its abstractions, it concretely achieves what it sets out to do: not a second is left to chance. The record’s two shortest cuts are similarly invigorating: ‘Birth’ and ‘Nuclear’ seem to function as exhaustion pipes of sorts, accumulating all the music’s anger, strengths, and vulnerabilities into brief explosions of sound. ‘Nuclear’s collage of sound treads near-total impressionism, achieving its electrifying yet intangible atmosphere within the minute it affords itself.
While the unfamiliarities of
Tongues may appear to comprise a challenging listen, the record’s layers make for a highly dissectible and ultimately digestible experience. Moreover, each layer unravels itself throughout the album’s runtime: there is a linearity to the track list that carefully exposes every element of Tagaq’s artistry. Underneath each twisted synth, disconcerting rhythm, and blood curdling vocal lies meticulous songwriting, a crisply constructed ambience, and empowerment by sheer necessity.
Tongues’ strength is its admittance of vulnerability, rather than the inverse. It’s a record that aligns music and message perfectly while being masterfully unapologetic, making for one of the most compelling and necessary listens of the year.
